


Deliver Me

by ceeainthereforthat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Destiel Ficlet Challenge, Gen, Kidnapping, Organized Crime, Tumblr Prompt, bondage but not the fun spanky kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:30:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2003943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceeainthereforthat/pseuds/ceeainthereforthat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knows how he wound up as a courier of illegal goods: he needed the money. Dean just drove the speed limit, kept his nose clean, and whatever's in the back was none of his business.</p><p>Until the night his cargo was alive...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deliver Me

Dean already had plans the first night he ran a delivery, but a thousand dollars to take a rental back to its home city motivated him. He had to replace his transmission, and that was five hundred bones right there, and the other half would give him some breathing room on the bills.

That’s how it started. He’d needed the money.

After the first time he’d dropped off a rental car, he figured out what he was really doing. He wasn’t stupid. But the woman on the other end who logged the vehicle handed him an envelope full of fifty dollar bills, and asked if he’d be willing to drive a return that same night for another fifteen hundred.

When they called him the next week, he accepted the job, because he’d needed the money. After six weeks, his credit card was paid off. He’d bought a new TV. He’d been able to help Sam out with an emergency dentist visit. And all he had to do was drive returns back to their hometowns, and not ask any questions about what he carried. A year later, Dean was making so much money he’d started to worry about how he was going to hide it. And he wasn’t stupid. He’d gone too far, was in too deep. He couldn’t just quit. They wouldn’t let him.

Tonight’s delivery was a big wooden crate, and he ignored it as he drove along the night darkened highway towards a little town where he’d have to wait until morning to get a bus. He got an overnight bonus for trips like this. He listened to Foreigner on the radio and thumped the steering wheel in time to the beat, set the cruise control to exactly the speed limit, and tried not to think about how deep he was in it.

When an off-tempo thumping sounded from the crate in the back, Dean realized he was deeper in it than he thought.

*

 _I’m a kidnapper,_  Dean thought. He fumbled around the empty van, looking for something he could use to prise open the crate. “Just hang on,” he called. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he sure as hell wasn’t going along with this.

“Are you hurt?” Dean said.

The crate thumped once.

“Shit. I can take you to a hospital—”

Two thumps.  _No._

“Okay, no hospitals,” Dean said. “Police?”

Two thumps.

“Okay, no police,” Dean said. “We’ll figure it out. One thing at a time, I’ve got to get you out.”

Easy to say. The van was clean and empty. The tire iron didn’t have a shim end for removing tires, just the sockets to handle the nuts. He needed a crowbar.

“I don’t have anything I can open the crate with,” Dean said. “But it’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of there.”

Whoever was in the crate couldn’t talk, but a thump sounded inside the box. _Yes._

“I’m going to drive again,” Dean said. “Don’t be afraid. I’m going to get you out.”

Another thump sounded, and Dean squeezed in between the van’s front seats to get the vehicle moving again.

When Dean found a Wal-Mart supercenter, he parked on the far end of the lot and bought a crowbar. He also picked up a basket full of bottled water and snacks, and then added one of those fuzzy polyester blankets with a tiger printed on it. It was on sale, and maybe the fuzziness would be comforting.

“I’m back,” Dean said. “I’m going to get you out. I didn’t know you were in here, I didn’t sign up for this.”

One thump sounded in reply.

Dean set the crowbar to the lid edge and levered one corner open, and then another. “Don’t move just yet,” Dean said, and squinted at the weird markings and squiggles on the inside of the llid.

“I don’t have a flashlight,” Dean said. “I should have bought a flashlight.”

But there was enough light to see bruised, bare skin and dried blood, and wide, furious eyes.

“Close your eyes, I need to take the lid completely off.”

The nails squealed as Dean pried up the lid and removed it completely. the man was tied up, gagged, and naked. He had a—thing on his head that came down over his face and held his jaw shut, like a leather gag on overkill. There were more of those weird squiggles tooled into the thick brown leather, and something on the device that went into the man’s mouth.

“What the hell is that,” Dean muttered, and helped the naked man sit up. Dean almost let him down when the man sucked in a pained breath, but he got the man’s arms free of the zipties that were cutting into his skin.

“Can you move? I need to get this thing off you,” Dean said, and felt along the back. he found a hasp and pulled it out, freeing the man’s mouth from the gag-harness. He didn’t want to know who’d dreamed that fucking device up. It looked like something from the inquisition.

The man coughed. Dean reached for a bottle of water and handed it to the man, who drank a few swallows before handing it back.

“Thank you,” he said, and his voice was deep and ragged. “You are kind.”

“I’m not a kidnapper,” Dean said, waving the man’s thanks away. “Are you hurt?”

Dean could see the bruises and the blood on the man’s body, and Dean offered him the fuzzy tiger blanket, which he wrapped around himself.

“I need clothes,” the man said. “Close your eyes.”

“I wasn’t looking,” Dean said, but he shut his eyes anyway, and his vision flared red, as if a bright light filled the room. He covered his eyes in instinctive protection, and still saw spots when he opened them.

The man had been battered and bloody and naked. Now he was clean, healed, and dressed, in a navy blue suit, white shirt, and badly knotted tie, a tan trenchcoat covering the rest.

“How—”

“Dean Winchester,” the man said. “Thank you for your service. May your days be blessed by our father.”

“What?” Dean tried to blink the green spots away.

“I am Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord, and I still need your help.”

*

Dean was going completely crazy. He’d seen Castiel’s wings, made of light and shadow, felt the electric rush when he reached out to see if there was something solid in that smoke-cloud and spark shape.

The story his hallucination told was wild. He’d possessed the man Dean saw before him, an undercover police officer who’d worked his way into an organization that raised money and recruited minions for—

“The forces of Hell?” Dean asked, again. “I am cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

“No faith,” Castiel said. “You have not gone crazy. I’m an angel of the lord. You were working for an organized crime group that has been run by demons for about a year. My vessel is an undercover FBI officer, a man of great faith, a man who discovered the truth behind the criminal organization he’d been investigating for two years. He prayed for this, and I came.”

“But what can you do?” Dean asked. “What can you really do, if what you’re telling me is true?”

“Now that I’ve found them and know their positions, my brothers can descend and bring the battle to them. They’re finding vessels right now.”

“You mean they’re possessing people,” Dean said. “No, I can’t believe this.”

“You helped me, Dean. Without a care to your own gain. You put yourself in danger. You deserve a great reward for helping me, and I will see that you get it,” Castiel said. “But first I need to put you in danger again. I swear I will protect you.”

“What are you doing?”

“The boss of the organization you work for is possessed by a demon named Malphas,” Castiel said. “I need to eliminate him before he realizes that I’ve escaped his plans for my delivery.”

“And so you want me to…”

“Deliver me,” Castiel said. “Deliver me to him, just as if nothing had gone wrong.”

Dean still couldn’t believe what was happening to him.

“I should drive to the closest state hospital and get locked up,” Dean said.

“Dean,” Castiel said. “What must I do to convince you?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “The choices are, you’re real and this is really happening, or I’ve totally broken from reality and wouldn’t be able to tell the difference anyway.”

“Modern psychiatry has much to answer for,” Castiel sighed. “Do you really believe you’ve gone completely mad?”

“Consider the alternative,” Dean said. “That there’s a war between heaven and hell being fought with the bodies of humans, killing each other. It’s utterly paranoid.”

“But you’re still driving me to the delivery point,” Castiel said.

“I know,” Dean said. “I just—I wanted out, Castiel. I started because it was good money and not my business, and now I’m obviously trusted for bigger jobs. They sent me to move you on a van job, and this ain’t my first van job. What if I’d already moved people?”

Castiel watched the dark forms of trees whip past. “I could answer that, if you liked. Jimmy knows the answer.”

“Jimmy?” Dean said. “His name is Jimmy?”

“Yes. Special Agent James Novak. If you looked him up, you’d find that he washed out of the academy three years ago. The truth is that he went into specialized training to go undercover.”

“To catch the people I work for,” Dean said.

“He started with the same car rental company you work for, Value Car Rentals,” Castiel said. “He got his start the same way you did, driving return rental cars with drugs. It’s a national operation. Jimmy got his start in Reno.”

“Reno,” Dean said. “And he’s up here in Illinois now. Chicago?”

“Chicago,” Castiel agreed. “Do you want to see his apartment before you deliver me? Will that help you believe?”

“I’m already speeding to make up for lost time,” Dean said. “We take a detour to Chicago, i’ll be suspiciously late.”

“You’re still talking like you’re going to help me,” Castiel said.

“I know,” Dean said. “Listen, I don’t know anything. Not enough to you know, do witness protection or something.”

“Trust in me and my brothers,” Castiel said.

“The angel witness protection program, huh?”

“I will protect you for the rest of your life,” Castiel said. “Just drop off the van, business as usual. Walk away, and then hide. Pray to me at Sunrise. It’ll be over by then.”

“That easy, huh,” Dean said. “I must be crazy. I believe you.”

*

They hid the evidence of Castiel’s escape from the crate and nailed the top back on. Dean drove through the night-time streets, taking it easy and observing traffic laws with the same casual adherence that most drivers did. Deliver him. That’s what Castiel wanted. He had to handle this like it was any other job. He just had to play it cool.

“But where will you hide?” Dean asked. “Are you going to lie on top of the roof like it’s some action movie?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and vanished from the passenger seat.

Dean yelped in surprise, and yelped again when Castiel re-appeared. “What the fuck!”

“The wings aren’t just special effects, Dean. they allow me to move great distances.”

“But you couldn’t get out of the box.”

“The markings on the inside of the box and the scold’s bridle kept me from being able to free myself or use the Word,” Castiel said.

“The Word?”

“Angel language is potent. Words become realities. The bridle stopped the Word from coming forth.”

“That freaky gag-helmet.”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel said, patiently. “I was meant to go into the hands of Hell’s inquisitors.”

“To get information on your angel buddies?”

“Correct,” Castiel said. “Capturing me was a coup. Assigning you was stupidity.”

“Why’d they do that, anyway?”

“They’d planned a party. My guess is no one wanted to miss it.”

“Wow. Lucky me,” Dean said.

“Lucky me,” Castiel corrected. “I don’t think anyone else would have done what you did. I will take out Malphas, and strike a major blow in this war.”

“And I’ll be out of the delivery business,” Dean said.

“You will have the gratitude of heaven,” Castiel said. “You will be blessed.”

“You sure you want me to do this?”

“Deliver me, and then get away from this place as quickly as you can,” Castiel said. “Pray for me at sunrise.”

Castiel vanished as the sign for Value Car Rentals came close enough to read. Dean drove up to the drop off zone and hopped out, ready to check in the vehicle return forms with the night clerk, who would give him his envelope full of cash and direct him to the taxi stand outside. He set his bag of water and snacks down, and handed the clipboard off to a woman with blonde highlights who checked off the form and said, “Smooth trip?”

He was going to pull this off.

“Sure,” Dean said. “Traffic was okay. Is there anywhere around here that’s still open where I can get some food? Even McDonald’s. I’m ready to kill for a cheeseburger.”

“There’s one on MacMillan drive,” the woman said. “Close to the motels.”

She handed the clipboard back, and Dean signed off.

“Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate it. See you again, sometime.”

“Hopefully soon,” the clerk said, and Dean looked up to smile at her. He froze.

She smiled at him, but her eyes were completely black.

“You smell of myrrh. You let the angel loose, didn’t you?”

Dean turned around and tried to run. “Castiel!”

He didn’t get far. He’d taken two steps before he stopped midstride, caught by an invisible force that squeezed. He struggled against it, but all that got him was a screaming pain in his left shoulder.

“It was too big a job for you to handle, Dean.”

Malphas walked over on clicking high heels, smiling while Dean struggled. “You weren’t in deep enough to really be trusted, but my underlings were too focused on hookers and blow. They thought the angel was out of commission, and you’d drop him off with no fuss.”

“Castiel,” Dean said again, and gasped. Malphas twisted her hand, and his heart squeezed. Pain shot through him, and released as Castiel appeared in the corner of his fading vision.

“Let him go,” Castiel said.

“Attached to the good Samaritan, are you?” Malphas clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “That’s no attitude for a soldier of heaven, is it? You aren’t supposed to care about the humans.”

Dean whimpered as the invisible vise around his body squeezed.

“He’s innocent, Malphas,” Castiel said.

“He chose the wrong side,” Malphas said. “But you can save him.”

“You want me to surrender to you,” Castiel said. Dean desperately tried to catch Castiel’s eye, to shake his head. He wasn’t crazy. This was real. A real war between good and evil, and he’d stepped right in the middle of it.

“He doesn’t want you to,” Malphas said. “Isn’t that noble?”

“But I will,” Castiel said. “Don’t kill him. I surrender.”

“No!” Dean cried, but Castiel had already put out his hands.

“Let him go, Malphas.”

“Self-sacrifice,” Malphas sneered. “You have to stop following that example, Castiel. It’s why your side is losing.”

Dean tumbled to the ground, free of the force that held him. His hand landed on — a stick, or something. Rebar—no.

“Our sacrifice always turns into something greater,” Castiel said, and Dean looked down. It was a dagger, silvery steel, with a long enough blade that it was practically a sword. He curled his fingers around it and got up.

Malphas had Castiel in her invisible grip, now, and castiel’s face was screwed up in pain as his body contorted. “Your sacrifice means nothing, Castiel. Just like the others.”

She was so intent on her torture that she never saw it coming. Dean stepped into his thrust, driving the dagger into Malphas’ kidney.

Castiel landed on the ground. Dean felt rib bones grinding against each other. He had broken ribs, and the force he used to stab made him gasp at the pain. Malphas screamed as orange light flickered through her as if she were on fire inside. She fell to the ground and the light went out, leaving behind a corpse.

Dean coughed, choking on the iron and salt taste of blood. His chest hurt. He couldn’t get a breath. He swayed and he saw Castiel reach for him just before everything went black.

*

Things stayed dark for a long time, but when Dean opened his eyes, he didn’t hurt. he swayed to the movement of a vehicle speeding down a highway, and he could just see enough to know he was in his car, his dad’s barely-running old Impala with bench seats and the smell of disintegrating seat padding.

He didn’t know how he got here, or why he wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead, right?

Dean sat up, and his mouth was dry.

“Where—”

“Dean,” a gravelled voice said. He recognized it.

“Castiel?”

“You slept well,” Castiel said. “And you’re healed.”

“And we’re on the lam.”

“You did stab a woman to death on surveillance video. I’m sorry about that, Dean.”

“I—She would have killed me anyway, Cas. Why did you give yourself up like that?”

“Distraction,” Castiel said. “I took a chance, that you would save me again. I kept her focus on me so she wouldn’t see that you had my blade.”

“You took a hell of a chance, Cas.” Dean dropped his chin and raised his head with a grimace. “Oh god, I stink.”

“You smell like human, only stronger.”

“Thanks,” Dean said. “I appreciate it.”

“I had faith in you,” Castiel said. “That you would save me.”

“Couldn’t let evil win, could I?” Dean said. “But now what?”

“Now we’re headed to  Kansas,” Castiel said. “I thought you might want to say goodbye to Sam.”

“Goodbye,” Dean said.

“You’re a fugitive,” Castiel said. “I’m sorry. But you were going to have to hide yourself. Move out of Illinois. Maybe I can fix the murder thing, but Hell knows you now, and they’ll want revenge.”

“I really stepped in it, didn’t I?” Dean asked.

“You did what your conscience told you to do,” Castiel said. “My garrison is grateful to you for my deliverance. You’re a hero. I’m taking you to safety.”

“Safety,” Dean said. “I’ll be in hiding.”

“You won’t be alone, Dean. I promise. I swore to protect you, and…”

“And what?”

“And you saved me twice, Dean. You sacrificed everything for me. I—there aren’t words.”

“I saved me too, Cas.”

“You did,” Castiel agreed, and sighed. “I’m used to humans being the ones in need of our protection and guidance. It’s arrogant.”

“Hey, we just acted like a team back there,” Dean said. “I mean it hasn’t totally sank in that I killed a woman but we got out of that together. But I’d do it again. I’d bust you out of that crate, the whole deal.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said. “My garrison wants to meet you. Would you meet them?”

“Sure, Cas,” Dean said. “Just one thing.”

“Name it.”

“Can I get a shower first?”


End file.
